And You'll Be Right There Next To Me
by tess the magic dragon
Summary: It was one week. One cruise. One time to change everything.
1. un

**authors note;;**

the following is slightly based off of past events. but it won't be exact and it's gonna actually have stuff happen and be cool and crap. yeah.

**disclaimer;;**

i don't own Fat Albert, Santa Claus, iCarly, the world's fattest priest, The Clique, Jenny, Nate, Serena, Gossip Girl, Coca Cola, Nordstrom's, any of these characters, or any form of a cruiseline.

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chapter one**

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"Stop packing. I swear. Nobody will be able to close that luggage. Not even Fat Albert. Not even Santa Claus. Not even the worlds fattest priest from iCar – "

I throw one of my pairs of skinny jeans at Olivia's face so she'd stop talking. As much as she's my best friend, she's a bit of an airhead. Her blonde hair doesn't really help her much, either.

"I'm serious, Nic!" I give her the evil eye. I hate when she calls me Nic, or Nicole, or Nicolette, or Nicocacola. I like being called Nikki, and that's all.

Of course, Olivia's favorite thing next to talking is making fun of me. But it's not like I hate her for it or anything. She's my best friend. She's supposed to make fun of me.

"I packed _so_ little in comparison to you. It's like your luggage is this giant soufflé of happiness and mine is a lonely little emo child." She sighs, finally taking in a breath after talking for probably an hour straight. "It's depressing."

I barely nod as I attempt to shove some more clothes into my suitcase. Correction, my _third_ suitcase. For a week-long cruise. God, I'm hopeless. As much as Olivia is this blonde mess of hypertasticness and insanity, she's much less girly than I am and can pack much lighter than me.

It's so unfair. I should probably just pay Olivia to pack for me, but she'd just put in like candy or something. No clothes, just food. Like I said, she's not the sharpest crayon in the box.

"Nicole Alexandra Dalton!" Her navy blue eyes are wild now, and she dives for my suitcase. I attempt to fight her off. "Stop. Packing. I swear to God, you won't meet any boys there cause you'll be so busy trying to choose a cute outfit to show off your boobs to them."

"Oh my god, shut up!" I giggle-scream, pushing Olivia away. She does most of the talking normally, whereas I'm more into responding when it's completely necessary. Like when she cheers on Jenny for kissing Nate in Gossip Girl.

He's better with Serena, in my opinion. But Olivia is loud, bossy, and opinionated. And no one has lost a battle against her yet.

"All you need," she says through another deep breath – I swear, she probably has asthma or something, "is a toothbrush, a few jeans and t-shirts, a dress or two, sneakers, sandals, and flats. Not everything they have in stock at Nordstrom's."

She throws her tiny, muscular body across the whole of my suitcase, and then attempts to zip it closed. Which she does, miraculously.

Olivia will never cease to amaze me.

"Now, repeat after me," she instructs, looking up at me with her wide, blue eyes. "I will find a guy on the cruise."

I grunt at this, turning away. Ever since Cam Fisher, my ex, and I broke up, I haven't really been doing anything. I'm not over him. He was my world, and now he's sleeping with half the grade (probably).

"Fine," I sigh. "I will find a guy on the cruise."

"I will not fall completely in love with said guy. I will simply get to know him, possibly make out with him in a jacuzzi – "

"Liv!" I scream, cutting her off. She ignores me, of course, closing her eyes and holding up a hand.

"And then leave this cruise with memories of a fling, not a relationship, and no more sadness over Cam-moron Fisher," she finishes, opening her eyes.

"Revise the last bit for me," I plead. "I can't say his name without crying yet."

She rolls her eyes. Of course. Olivia doesn't _do_ relationships. She likes fast flings with tons of fun and little heartbreak. But she gets me, I know she does. That's why we're friends.

"You're gonna have a fling, get over Cam, and have fun for once." She leans forward, places her hands on my shoulders, and kisses me on the cheek. "Trust me babe, you're gonna have the time of your life."


	2. deux

**author's note;;**

does anyone like this new series of mine? i know you're all itching for me to finish everything else, but i feel like i need to finish writing this. for me. for you. for the same reason why spring break makes my stomach hurt.

**disclaimer;;**

i don't own the _Wall Street Journal_, Nintendo or any of its game boys or DSis, Helen Keller, the characters, ADD, Carnival Cruise (or its decks), Barney, or Up. or anything I forgot.

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**chapter tw****o

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"I see you've finished packing," my mom states as Olivia and I walk down the stairs half an hour later, the wheels on our roller bags threatening to hurt the shiny maple staircase. My dad grunts in agreement, barely looking up from his copy of the _Wall Street Journal_. My little brother glances up from his Nintendo DSi to give me this lovely comment on his love for me:

"You look like a moron."

"Gee, thanks, Kemp," I practically spit out through a fake smile. My mom doesn't approve of my calling him names. On the other hand, anything Kemp does is fine, seeing as he has "special needs" and doesn't know what he's doing.

Newsflash, mother: just cause he has ADD, doesn't mean he's got it as bad as Helen Keller.

"You look hot, Olivia," he drools this time. My parents chuckle and Olivia grins at me in a way that says, "Haha, your brother likes me better than you." I stick my tongue out at her, and she flares her nostrils at me.

"We better get going." My mom clasps her hands together and turns to Olivia. "Have you called your parents to say goodbye?" she asks.

"Yes ma'am," Olivia replies sweetly. Her next words sound one part robotic and two parts loving-daughter-of-a-plastic-surgeon-and-hot-shot-lawyer. "They wanted to thank you for giving me such a wonderful opportunity, as I have never been on a cruise before."

Lies. Her parents are rich enough to own their own cruise line.

"They also wanted me to say that if anything happens, there is a sheet of phone numbers inside of my purse, including my pediatrician, my orthodontist, poison control – "

"That's great, Olivia." For once, my dad gets to do the talking. It always seems like my mom talks way more than my dad does, just like Olivia talks way more than I do. "Now, if we don't start heading for the car in 0.5 seconds, there will be no more complimentary smoothies for us on the cruise."

I flash a smile at my dad, which he returns immediately. As soon as we're in the car and pulling out of the driveway, I hear Kemp utter, "Goodbye, house," in a sweet voice. My parents smile at each other, while I inwardly cringe.

I swear he's a demon.

-:-

"Say cheese!" the peppy, red t-shirt-wearing girl croons as she takes our family picture. My mom frowns as the camera flashes. My dad's not even looking up – he's checking his blackberry – and Kemp is snarling at the camera. Olivia's not even in the picture – she didn't feel the need to join in on our family photo when she's technically not our family.

The girl hands me a slip – I was the only one smiling for the camera – and tells me that if I want to buy the picture, I should go to the Promenade Deck of the ship. I smile and thank her, shoving the slip into my pocket.

I don't need more proof of my mentally unstable family.

"You looked hot in that pic, Nikki," Olivia laughs, poking me in the stomach. I let out a quiet _oof_ before following my family down the walkway to the ship. Looking down, all I can see is the calm blue waves of the harbor. Looking straight across, I see the majestic cruise ship.

"You ready?" Olivia asks me, squeezing my hand right before we enter the cruise ship. I nod, and we step inside, bracing ourselves for the worst.

We really should have expected the best.

-:-

"You will have no trouble getting over Cam," Olivia tells me as she chews the straw of her raspberry smoothie. We're sitting at our own table on the Lido deck, AKA the deck with the pool and the food. The deck below us houses a video game arcade (which Kemp is probably living in by now), a club just for teens, an adult club, a casino, and much more. We haven't explored everything yet, but it all seems amazing so far. "There are so many hot guys here. And I'll bet over half of them are single."

"Yeah, right," I say, watching a supremely tanned guy walk buy with his arm around an equally tanned girl. "They're probably all here with their girlfriends."

"What kind of parent would allow their son to bring his girlfriend on a cruise?" Olivia muses. "They'd probably just have se – "

I kick her in the shin, causing her to yelp loudly. A cute guy passes by, raising his eyebrows at us from behind his aviators. I smile sweetly, and Olivia attempts to contort her pained face into a flirtatious grin. He grins back before continuing to make his rounds. Olivia turns to me instantly.

"He so thought you were hot." She widens her navy eyes. "I swear."

"He was kinda cute, I suppose," I say quietly. On the inside, though, I'm grinning. If that guy's just cute, who knows what the hot guys look like?

"Excuse me," a short, pimply boy says, breaking my daydream of whatever hot guy may come up next. "I was sitting with my friends, and they wanted to know if you wanted to go dancing with us tonight." He points to what looks like a group of twelve-year-olds surrounding a tiny black table.

I stifle a laugh and allow Olivia to lead me away. "We're busy tonight!" I squeak, feeling sorry for them. After all, the boy looked scared enough just walking up to our table. We probably just scarred him for life. "Sorry!"

Olivia pulls me inside an elevator, punching the button for the sixth floor – sorry, deck. She turns to me, widening her blue eyes again, and bursts out laughing. "Please tell me that he was not an example of one of the cute guys on the cruise."

"He was kinda cute," I reply, feeling the need to stick up for the nerdy preteen. "In a Barney kind of way." I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing, then almost lose it as Olivia puffs out her cheeks in an attempt to mock the boy.

The elevator doors open suddenly – not at the sixth deck, sadly – and four cute boys who all look related walk in. They smile at us, and we smile back, Olivia sucking her cheeks back in. They get out two floors later – we still have a floor to go – nodding their heads at us as they leave.

Olivia jams her thumb into the _open doors_ button, glancing my way. "Why do we need to go back to our room, anyway?" she asks, moving towards the doors. "We could be getting to know those guys instead of watching Up on our room's TV."

I nod, letting this all sinking. Then, without thinking, I grab her arm and start speed-walking towards the boys.

Look out boys, here we come.


	3. trois

**author's note;;**

i kinda sorta love your reviews. they make me smile. i was gonna post this earlier, but i had to read _The Hunger Games_ for extra credit for algebra 2 and then email my teacher summaries every few chapters.

**disclaimer;;**

i don't own Ash Ketchum, Pokemon, Apple or their iPods, the characters, or any form of a ghetto.

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chapter three

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"Move it, fatty!" Olivia whispers, shoving me out of the way. We're hiding behind a couch in the middle of the seventh deck. The boys are all crowded around the bar, trying to pretend they're over twenty-one when they're obviously not.

"Ew, your butt's in my face," I complain, laughing and swatting her arm.

"You love my butt." Olivia glances over the top of the couch before nodding towards a few rows of computers off to the side. We race over there and clamber onto the same chair, still peeking at the boys.

"I call the one with the shaggy, blonde hair," Olivia practically shouts. I clamp my hand over her mouth, and we glance around. Nobody seems to have heard her. I pull my hand away and wipe it on the side of my plaid short-shorts.

"They all have shaggy, blonde hair," I tell her, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, so I choose them all." She runs a tongue over her teeth in a move that she believes is seductive. "I'm like Ash Ketchum from Pokemon. I gotta catch 'em all."

I snicker and crane my neck to check the guys out. They're all wearing colored t-shirts and most of them are in relatively skinny jeans, along with skate shoes. "Let's get closer," I suggest. "That way we can – "

Olivia tugs my arm and suddenly I'm standing in front of the guys with her. "Or we can walk right up to them," I mumble. "That's cool too."

"Excuse me?" the boy closest to me asks. He has hazel eyes, and an iPod Classic is peeking out of his shorts pocket.

"Nothing." I mash my lips together and hunch my shoulders a bit. Awkward.

Olivia, however, takes the time to lower her shoulders, raise her chin, and stick out her chest. She grins flirtatiously at the boys, who all grin back at her and nod at me. As tomboyish as she can be with her ideas about packing, she's still the one guys flock to more. "I'm Olivia, but you can call me Livi." She cocks her head towards me. "This is my total bee-eff-eff Nikki. Isn't she adorable?"

The guys all grin at me. I grin back and resist the urge to elbow Olivia in the ribs. "Hey."

"Where are you guys from?" the brunette next to Olivia asks. "We're from the city."

"As in New York? We're from Westchester," she replies, hooking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. I smile again, and then glance around awkwardly. The boy across from me – shorter than his brothers, with darker brown eyes and lighter blonde hair – is doing the same. He's probably the shyest one of the pact, while his three brothers are all outgoing beyond belief.

"Really?" the tallest boy asks, grinning wider than his three brothers. "That's so cool. My ex is from Westchester. Her name is Skye Hamilton. Do you know her?" His eyes look slightly sad, as though the two had only broken up.

"Oh, uh, yeah," Olivia replies, glancing at me with wide eyes. She and Skye are in the same dance class and are forever competing. Skye's also one of the biggest sluts at Westchester High, which Olivia and I attend. Who knew she actually had a boyfriend? "She's…nice."

"She'saslut," one of the two, hazel-eyed blondes coughs. His tallest brother – the one who dated Skye – cringes, while the last two brothers laugh. Olivia lowers her shoulders, relaxing. And I laugh a little harder than I need to.

"What are your names?" I squeak, rolling my shoulders back in the same way that Olivia did. "Cause, uhm, you know ours and where we live and all, but we don't know yours." Olivia nods in agreement.

"I'm Dempsey," Skye's ex says. "I'm a senior." He runs a hand through his blonde hair; it's shorter than the other boys' hair, making him look sophisticated in a sense. His eyes are a bright green, making him stand out from his duller-eye-colored brothers.

"We're sophomores," Olivia cuts in quickly, as if to mar the confusion.

"I'm Dune, and this is Danny," says one of the two boys who are more of a medium height. I notice now that they don't just share a pair of hazel eyes; they're twins. Dune is slightly taller than Danny, and Danny's dark blonde hair is slightly lighter than Dune's. "We're both juniors."

"I'm Derrick," the shy boy says. He's the only one of the four boys wearing shorts rather than jeans. "I guess I'm the baby of the family."

"How so?" Olivia asks, sneaking glances at the other three boys.

Derrick shrugs. "I'm a sophomore, just like you guys." He brushes a hand past his shaggy blonde hair, looking right at me and smiling.

And I'm smiling back, with no thoughts of Cam in my head.

-:-

"So…" Olivia says a few hours later, after we've gone through the safety part of the cruise (Kemp screamed that we were gonna die the whole time and Olivia tried to see how many life vests she could wear). She's sitting on her bed, brushing out her blonde hair, while I'm sitting on my bed and staring out the window that's right next to it. "How'd you like the guys, then?"

"They were nice."

Silence.

"You thought Derrick was hot, didn't you?" I'm not even looking at her and I can tell she's grinning. God, I know Olivia too well.

"I thought he was nice."

"I think he wanted to sex you up."

I turn around and look at her. "Great choice of words, Livi."

"You should've been all like, 'Oh you so sexay, wanna see mah boobays?' and then like totally shown them to him. Cause he would've been like, 'Dayum, bitch, you is so sexay.' And you would've ridden off on a magical unicorn into the sunset."

I furrow my eyebrows and gawk at her. "Wait. Why do I never have good grammar in your brain poofs?"

"Cause my brain poofs are ghetto, biznatch." She stands up on her bed, purses her lips, then starts dancing the robot. "You and that Derrick guy, though. Oh my god. You'd have such pretty babies."

I narrow my eyes in confusion. "Dude, what did they put in your smoothie?"


	4. quatre

**author's note;;**  
sorry for the lack of updates :p like, extremeasaurusly. i was in one show, had star testing, finished up the schoolyear, got caught up in having a boyfriend, was in two more shows, started junior year, did _another_ show, started sat prep, then got dumped. so now i have time to do this haha.****

disclaimer;;  
whatever it is that's in this story, it's disclaimed. shaboom!

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chapter four

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"That was the most filling dinner I've ever had," Olivia groans from her side of our cabin. She's changing out of her formal dinner outfit and into a pair of shorts, a t-shirt, vans, and a hoodie. I'm busy tying my converse; I've already changed into a pair of skinny jeans, a flowy top, and a zip-up jacket.

"I feel like a hippo," I add, finger-combing my boring brown hair. Do you know how awkward it is to be in the same room as Olivia when you're having a bad hair day? Her hair is always perfectly blonde, long, and wavy-curly.

It's so unfair.

"Moo," Olivia agrees.

"That's a cow."

"Right." Olivia nods once, and then snaps both fingers. "So guess what I found when we were running back to our cabin from dinner?"

"What?" I ask, reaching over to rub my sore feet before remembering I was wearing shoes. Never run in heels. It's the equivalent of death. I swear.

"This." She holds out a pamphlet that has the words _Super Teens!_ superimposed across the front flap in lime green. "The name's dorky, but it's supposed to have fun activities for teens."

"Or for dorks who just wanna get away from their parents," I argue, taking the pamphlet and glancing at the pictures.

"Doesn't that describe us perfectly, though?"

"True."

I open up the first flap, revealing a list of activities for the entire duration of the cruise. Tonight's activity (well, the one that would be in about 27 minutes from now) is a karaoke contest near the pool. I raise my eyebrows at Olivia.

"Karaoke?"

"Yes!" she cheers. "I love karaoke."

"Dude, Livi, karaoke is for older Filipino women who want to force their children to sing for their relatives." Don't ask me how I know that. Just don't.

"It's also an easy way to find out if any of the guys on this cruise can sing, like, epically awesomely," she contradicts, wiggling her fair eyebrows.

She has a point.

"Karaoke it is," I respond weakly, watching a beam wipe its way across Olivia's face. What am I getting myself into?

-:-

"_And he's watching us all with the eye of the tiger!_"

Sadly, that screechy bit of lyrics did not just come from an adorable teenage boy with flippy hair. It came from my best friend, Olivia Ryan.

And even though it's painful to listen to her, everyone is enthralled by her excitement and obsession with playing the song on air guitar as she sang along. If only I'd remembered a camera…

"Nickelback!" she squeals into the microphone. "Join me!"

I shake my head about a million times. No, no, no. I do not _do_ singing. I do not _do_ crowds. And most importantly of all, I do not _do_ singing in front of crowds. Me being up there would just be some horrendous lose-lose situation.

"Is she talking about you or the band?" a guy's voice hisses into my right ear.

I fight the urge to jump at the slight raspiness. It has some appeal, in a mysterious sense. The boy who owns – okay, who _owns_ voices other than Ursula from the Little Mermaid? – the voice also has extremely warm breath, like he's been drinking hot cocoa, or he's been stuck outside in an arctic tundra and his hotness is melting the snow and –

Oh, who am I kidding? I hadn't even looked at him yet.

I turn right to see…whatshisface. Crap. Did I really forget the cute guy's name already? "Oh, it's…you," I stammer, smiling. Maybe he won't notice I'd forgotten his name. Isn't that so insulting, having someone forget your name? Ugh, I feel like such a bad person.

"Seven letters," he smiles. "Starts with a _D_. Sounds vaguely like the word _carrot_."

"Derrick!" I shout, like I've found the golden ticket. "I knew that. I swear. I just –"

"It's cool," he shrugs, smiling sheepishly. Thank you God. "I kinda forgot your name too…"

Well thanks for _that_.

Maybe the disappointment shows in my face, because he quickly says, "I'm kidding, gosh." His grin widens. "It's Nikki, right?"

I nod. If I show too much happiness from his remembering my name, he might be scared off. Keep it cool, Nikki. Keep it ice cool. "Yes, that is right. Correct! Yes."

That's right. Ice cool. Not.

"Should I call you Nikki then, or do you prefer being Nickelback like your friend said?" he asks without acknowledging my idiotic response. I give him a look. "Nikki it is."

"I'm not even a fan of Nickelback in the first place," I tell him, being vaguely aware that his eyes are trained on my face and we are somehow moving further away from the crowd and closer to the railing on the opposite side of the deck. Are we…moving? Together?

Oh my god. Breathe, Nikki. Just breathe. Over-excitement means it's a crush. If it's a crush, that means you're already over Cam. But you're not. You know you're not. You don't get over the guy you've been in love with since the sixth grade that easily.

"Me neither," he says. Wait. What were we talking about? Oh, right. Nickelback. "The singer's a little whiney for me. I prefer Rise Against and Smashing Pumpkins."

"I don't know what I prefer," I tell him honestly. "I like all music equally, sorta. It's not something I really pay attention to."

Suddenly, we're both leaning on the railing, and his elbow is touching mine. His skin is so warm, oh my god. He looks me in the eyes – his are so warm and brown, they're like chocolate.

"So what _do _you pay attention to?" he asks quietly, his brown eyes searching my face in the darkness.

"Your eyes," I breathe.

Shit. Did I really just say that?


	5. cinq

**author's note;;**

kitties are mean to me. they give me allergic reactions. boooooooo.

**disclaimer;;**

i am not really a magic dragon (shocking, right? :o). i'm a toaster.

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chapter five

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"My eyes?" Derrick looks confusedly at me. Oh, shit. What do I say?

"Uhm, yeah, there's, uhm, there's an eyelash. Yeah." Maybe my stammering won't give me away. Just be a good boy and believe me, Derrick. Please.

_Please_.

"Oh…" He reaches a finger up to his eye. Ew. "I didn't feel anything…are you sure?"

"Uhm, it might have fluttered off with the breeze, like a butterfly." Like a butterfly? What am I, five? I'm turning into Olivia, I swear. This is, like, step one of the transformation.

"Oh, okay." He drags his teeth across his lower lip in a sexy – well, he's probably not trying to be sexy, but… – half-bite. "So, uh, we were talking about –"

"My interests," I blurt out. "Right." Way to use a Sims 2 term, Nikki. I look shyly away from his eyes; those beautiful eyes screwed me over and I can no longer trust them. "I'm actually, uhm, really into reading."

_Please don't think I'm a dork_.

"Really?" he asks. His voice sounds genuinely…pleased. I carefully crane my neck up to look at his eyes and they're shining. "I read too. Have you ever read _The_ _Hunger Games_? It's actually become my favorite book series."

"Yeah, I devoured that series." My grin grows larger as we stray from the awkwardness. "For a while, I wanted to dye my hair black and become an archer," I admit.

"Yeah, for a while, I got really into baking bread," he mumbled. He smiles shyly at me. "I was really, uhm, supportive of Katniss and Peeta's relationship, and how they could take care of each other in different aspects."

"I loved them together too." I smile back at him and hold his gaze.

Maybe he'll kiss me. Or we'll have a meaningful hand touch or something. _Anything_.

He clears his throat to break the silence. "So, uhm, you won't rat my reading a chick book out to my brothers?"

"It's not a chick book, it's got violence," I retort with a grin.

"Still." He grins back at me. "Do you promise?" He holds out his right pinky. I stare at it, then wrap my pinky around his and shake.

"Good." He pulls his hand back and drops it in his pocket. "Should I walk you back to your cabin? It's getting pretty late and there are bound to be drunk adults everywhere."

"Sure," I say with a laugh, and follow him towards the elevator. I jab the six button with my thumb, and the elevator takes us down. When the doors open, Derrick becomes the follower as I lead him through the winding hallways until we get to my cabin. I pull my card key out of my pocket.

"So, uhm…" I glance at the door, then my key, then back at Derrick. "This is me."

"Oh." Derrick looks torn, before awkwardly reaching his arms out as if to hug me. Then, changing his mind, he retracts his arms and issues a small wave with his left hand. "Uhm…goodnight."

"Goodnight," I respond with a small smile. He nods and walks back down the maze of hallways. As soon as he's out of my line of sight, I let out a slightly depressed sigh and open my door, letting the darkness surround me as I fumble my way towards my bed.

-:-

"So, you're telling me that this boy who you had a meaningful conversation with – under this romantic array of twinkling stars and beautiful music brought to you by _moi_ – just walked you back to our cabin and didn't even kiss you?"

I resist the urge to lean over and push Olivia's chin up to shut her mouth; the mushy combination of chewed waffles, strawberries, and whipped cream is slowly taking away my appetite. I look down at my own modest bowl of oatmeal and shrug.

"Is he gay?" she asks after some thought.

"No, Olivia."

"How do you know? Did you ask him?" She waves her fork around and continues to chew with her mouth wide open. "He could be gay. I mean, you're sexy and he doesn't even go for you."

"Ha. Right." I tug a lock of my straight, brown hair. "I am a Plain Jane. _You_ are the sexy one."

"At least I admit my own sexiness." She sticks her tongue out at me. "So, is he?"

"He's not." I roll my grey eyes and go back to my bowl of mush. Delicious mush, but mush all the same.

"Maybe next time I'll sing _Kiss the Girl _from _The Little Mermaid_ and he'll get the idea, huh?"

"Sing it to me and I'll kiss you all night, baby girl," Kemp says to Olivia from beside me. I elbow him in the ribs to shut him up. "You know my cabin number. It's the one right next to yours."

"Kemp. Shut up. Go away. You're too young for Olivia." I flick his forehead.

"Sorry, Kempie," Olivia tries with a smile. "You're very sweet though."

Kemp takes one last bite of his pancakes and stands up, staring at Olivia. "Call me, baby," he tells her with a wink before turning around to leave the eating area.

Olivia laughs and looks at me, my eyes halfway through a roll and my oatmeal still practically untouched. "He's adorable."

"He's disgusting."

"Whatever," she laughs. "He'll make some weird little girl happy some day." She shoves her empty plate of waffles towards the center of the table and takes a swig of her water. "Okay. Operation Peeta goes into effect today."

My smile widens, and a bite my lip to keep it from showing. "Okay. What's the plan?"

"We stalk him," she says. "We stalk him hardcore."


End file.
